Alone
by Seven Positions
Summary: "He feels that if his sister were there, he would be okay... Instead of this horrible, excruciating, lonely death, he would drift off into peaceful sleep with Katara cradling him." Three versions of a Sokka deathfic. A lot of non-incestual sibling love.
1. Chapter 1

So there are three versions of this fanfic. The first chapter is the version I wrote first. The second chapter is the less sad (but still sad) alternate ending version. The third chapter is the reworked version, which is closer to my original idea for the fic. But I like all of them, so... You get all of them. That's just how it goes. **Every version of this story involves character death and is pretty much super depressing! **You're warned.

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Enjoy!

_Original Version_

* * *

Sokka dies alone.

He has no idea why there was a single Fire Nation soldier out in the wilderness. He isn't sure if there are more nearby, but he hasn't been able to hear anything that would lead him to believe so. The soldier must have been a scout, then.

Good, he thinks firmly. The others will be safe.

He is shaking uncontrollably. The adrenaline is fading from his system. He is starting to feel panic, pain.

He wishes Katara were there. His fingers tighten over his stomach as he thinks of her, wishing she was there to comfort him. He wishes his mother were there, too, but it's sort of the same thing now, Katara and his mother.

He groans loudly through gritted teeth and tears leak out of his eyes. His body is tingling, his head swimming, and there is pain searing across his skin all over.

He wants Katara, but he has strayed far enough from camp in search of game that he doubts he will be heard unless he screams. He doesn't want to draw any soldiers that may be nearby, and he doesn't know if he even has the strength. Terrified, his mind and body wrecked, he begins to sob quietly; he cannot help himself. He is immobile, completely helpless, and he feels like a child.

He had heard the firebender coming and hid behind a tree, striking a surprise blow with his sword. He hadn't penetrated the armor, but he'd sent the soldier stumbling, giving Sokka the opportunity to crack his helmet. It fell apart, revealing the bender's face.

He had recovered quickly, leaping to his feet and throwing two streams of fire from his hands at the same time. Sokka attempted to dodge them, but the side of his face and neck were caught in one of the bursts of flame. Though the pain was immense, he managed to shake it off quickly and strike again.

The man blocked the blows, striking back with fists and fire. Sokka managed to dodge most of the attacks, sustaining minimal damage. Through soft spots in the Fire soldier's armor, he managed to inflict some himself.

And then the firebender's hands were hovering centimeters away from his chest and a thick shaft of flame hit him. He staggered back and, before he could even think of defending himself, his enemy had pulled out a dagger and plunged it into his sternum.

Sokka screamed. The dagger was pulled down his stomach, creating a long gash, almost down to his navel.

A pained noise was wrenched from his throat. He almost lost the grip on his sword. He wanted to fall to the ground and let himself die. But he couldn't let this Fire Nation scum go to find his friends, or to bring more forces here. He gripped his sword and steeled himself before pulling back and piercing the soldier's throat in one swift motion. He was showered with blood. The soldier fell, gurgling, his wide eyes locked onto Sokka's.

Trembling, pressing his hands over his wound, Sokka turned and took several erratic steps back in the direction of camp before hitting the ground with a thud.

Now, he lets out a shuddering cry, trying to express some of the agony raging through him. He wants Katara. He wants her to be there with him so badly he calls her name.

He listens.

He tells himself that the danger has passed, that if he screams for her, no enemies will hear him. He has not heard anything. He can reasonably assume that he can have her at his side and that everyone will be safe.

He gathers the minimal strength he has left and yells his sister's name as loud as he can. His body feels like it's being ripped apart anew and he sobs hard, wrapping his arms around his stomach, curling in on himself.

He is covered in blood and tears. His skin is blistering. His life is leaving him through the deep, ragged gash down his stomach.

He feels that if his sister were there, he would be okay. The pain wouldn't matter. Instead of this horrible, excruciating, lonely death, he would drift off into peaceful sleep with Katara cradling him.

He dies crying softly. He dies alone.

* * *

Katara hears her name, just faintly. She hears urgency and terror. She hears Sokka.

Aang and Toph hear, too. They all stand there, frozen, for a moment, and Katara takes off running.

Katara runs so hard her lungs tighten, screaming in protest.

Sokka needs her. She needs to be there for him. Wordlessly, she runs to him, gasping for breath. Tears are streaming down her face.

Aang passes her, riding on the wind, but she arrives only seconds later in the small clearing.

She gasps, rooted to the spot by shock and dismay. Nausea rips through her and she lets out a low, anguished moan. Aang stands nearby, his face looking sad and stricken as he stares.

There's a Fire Nation soldier. He is curled on his side, Sokka's sword forced deep into his throat. He is still bleeding slowly, though he seems to have spilled most of what is in his body already. The smell of it makes her sick, so sick.

Her big brother is lying in the grass, covered in blood. His arms, his stomach, splatters on his face. His eyes are open and he looks scared and young and bleak. His skin is burned. He isn't breathing.

He isn't breathing.

She screams her throat raw.

"_Sokka_!"


	2. Chapter 2

Alternate ending! While writing the first version, I was getting way too sad. This normally does not happen to me. Normally, I thrive on tragedy. Anyway, I got too sad, and this fic is the result. I've bolded the part where (if I remember correctly) this version starts to differ from the first. 

* * *

He has no idea why there was a single Fire Nation soldier out in the wilderness. He isn't sure if there are more nearby, but he hasn't been able to hear anything that would lead him to believe so. The soldier must have been a scout, then.

Good, he thinks firmly. The others will be safe.

He is shaking uncontrollably. The adrenaline is fading from his system. He is starting to feel panic, pain.

He wishes Katara were there. His fingers tighten over his stomach as he thinks of her, wishing she was there to comfort him. He wishes his mother were there, too, but it's sort of the same thing now, Katara and his mother.

He groans loudly through gritted teeth and tears leak out of his eyes. His body is tingling, his head swimming, and there is pain searing across his skin all over.

He wants Katara, but he has strayed far enough from camp in search of game that he doubts he will be heard unless he screams. He doesn't want to draw any soldiers that may be nearby, and he doesn't know if he even has the strength. Terrified, his mind and body wrecked, he begins to sob quietly; he cannot help himself. He is immobile, completely helpless, and he feels like a child.

He had heard the firebender coming and hid behind a tree, striking a surprise blow with his sword. He hadn't penetrated the armor, but he'd sent the soldier stumbling, giving Sokka the opportunity to crack his helmet. It fell apart, revealing the bender's face.

He had recovered quickly, leaping to his feet and throwing two streams of fire from his hands at the same time. Sokka attempted to dodge them, but the side of his face and neck were caught in one of the bursts of flame. Though the pain was immense, he managed to shake it off quickly and strike again.

The man blocked the blows, striking back with fists and fire. Sokka managed to dodge most of the attacks, sustaining minimal damage. Through soft spots in the Fire soldier's armor, he managed to inflict some himself.

And then the firebender's hands were hovering centimeters away from his chest and a thick shaft of flame hit him. He staggered back and, before he could even think of defending himself, his enemy had pulled out a dagger and plunged it into his sternum.

Sokka screamed. The dagger was pulled down his stomach, creating a long gash, almost down to his navel.

A pained noise was wrenched from his throat. He almost lost the grip on his sword. He wanted to fall to the ground and let himself die. But he couldn't let this Fire Nation scum go to find his friends, or to bring more forces here. He gripped his sword and steeled himself before pulling back and piercing the soldier's throat in one swift motion. He was showered with blood. The soldier fell, gurgling, his wide eyes locked onto Sokka's.

Trembling, pressing his hands over his wound, Sokka turned and took several erratic steps back in the direction of camp before hitting the ground with a thud.

Now, he lets out a shuddering cry, trying to express some of the agony raging through him. He wants Katara. He wants her to be there with him so badly he calls her name.

He listens.

He tells himself that the danger has passed, that if he screams for her, no enemies will hear him. He has not heard anything. He can reasonably assume that he can have her at his side and that everyone will be safe.

He gathers the minimal strength he has left and yells his sister's name as loud as he can. His body feels like it's being ripped apart anew and he sobs hard, wrapping his arms around his stomach, curling in on himself.

He has to hold on. He pulls air through his nose, trying to calm himself down, trying to will away the pain. Katara is coming for him.

He clings to the thought. Katara is coming for him.

He hears the strong _whoosh _of Aang's airbending and the wind blows around him in the next second. It stops and he hears Aang gasp, whisper his name.

Sokka turns to him. They stare at each other wordlessly. Aang seemed not to breathe.

He hears footsteps and he knows they can only belong to his sister. He rolls over slightly and catches her eye as she runs into the clearing. She freezes. She stays where she is. She doesn't move. He can feel his heart breaking.

He pleads with her, holds his hand out. She looks at it and hesitates. He knows: it's covered in blood. He pleads harder. His voice breaks.

Then she is holding his hand, sitting down and pulling his head into her lap.

He sighs. He is in so much pain, but he's happy. Katara is holding his hand and stroking his forehead. She is bent close to him, murmuring something soft and unintelligible, and her tears are landing very softly on his face.

Sokka looks at her and smiles weakly. She can't smile back, but he understands. There is blood in his mouth, on his lips. He chokes on it a little.

Things are getting dark. He closes his eyes and sighs again, and Katara begs him not to go, but they both know he is going to die. She hasn't even bothered to try to heal him.

He mumbles something to her softly and squeezes her hand. Her face contorts as she tries not to bawl. She feels him slip away finally; he goes limp. He is dead.

She sniffs, her body shakes. She leans over and kisses his forehead, on the very edge of cracking.

"I love you too," she whispers. And then, she breaks.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys, this is my final version. After writing the original and the alternate ending, I realized that both had strayed a little from my original intentions with the fic, so I rewrote it. Again, I've bolded the part that veers off from the first version. Here it is!

* * *

Sokka dies alone.

He has no idea why there was a single Fire Nation soldier out in the wilderness. He isn't sure if there are more nearby, but he hasn't been able to hear anything that would lead him to believe so. The soldier must have been a scout, then.

Good, he thinks firmly. The others will be safe.

He is shaking uncontrollably. The adrenaline is fading from his system. He is starting to feel panic, pain.

He wishes Katara were there. His fingers tighten over his stomach as he thinks of her, wishing she was there to comfort him. He wishes his mother were there, too, but it's sort of the same thing now, Katara and his mother.

He groans loudly through gritted teeth and tears leak out of his eyes. His body is tingling, his head swimming, and there is pain searing across his skin all over.

He wants Katara, but he has strayed far enough from camp in search of game that he doubts he will be heard unless he screams. He doesn't want to draw any soldiers that may be nearby, and he doesn't know if he even has the strength. Terrified, his mind and body wrecked, he begins to sob quietly; he cannot help himself. He is immobile, completely helpless, and he feels like a child.

He had heard the firebender coming and hid behind a tree, striking a surprise blow with his sword. He hadn't penetrated the armor, but he'd sent the soldier stumbling, giving Sokka the opportunity to crack his helmet. It fell apart, revealing the bender's face.

He had recovered quickly, leaping to his feet and throwing two streams of fire from his hands at the same time. Sokka attempted to dodge them, but the side of his face and neck were caught in one of the bursts of flame. Though the pain was immense, he managed to shake it off quickly and strike again.

The man blocked the blows, striking back with fists and fire. Sokka managed to dodge most of the attacks, sustaining minimal damage. Through soft spots in the Fire soldier's armor, he managed to inflict some himself.

And then the firebender's hands were hovering centimeters away from his chest and a thick shaft of flame hit him. He staggered back and, before he could even think of defending himself, his enemy had pulled out a dagger and plunged it into his sternum.

Sokka screamed. The dagger was pulled down his stomach, creating a long gash, almost down to his navel.

A pained noise was wrenched from his throat. He almost lost the grip on his sword. He wanted to fall to the ground and let himself die. But he couldn't let this Fire Nation scum go to find his friends, or to bring more forces here. He gripped his sword and steeled himself before pulling back and piercing the soldier's throat in one swift motion. He was showered with blood. The soldier fell, gurgling, his wide eyes locked onto Sokka's.

Trembling, pressing his hands over his wound, Sokka turned and took several erratic steps back in the direction of camp before hitting the ground with a thud.

Now, he lets out a shuddering cry, trying to express some of the agony raging through him. He wants Katara. He wants her to be there with him so badly he says her name. **The** cry is hoarse and quiet and he wheezes afterward, choking on blood.

He can't have her by his side as he dies; he knows this. There are more soldiers nearby, there must be, and to scream would be to draw them here.

He has to die in secret. Katara will be angry with him, but at least she'll be alive. Toph will be alive. Aang will be alive. They'll save the world.

They can do it without him.

He hopes, as he lets out a loud gurgling noise and blood spurts from his nose and mouth, that he will see his mother. He is afraid that when he dies, there will be nothing.

Tears are streaming down his face. He wants to let out a loud wail, he wants to whimper and sob, but he forces himself to stay silent, with the exception of his ragged breaths.

If Katara were here, she might try to heal him. But Katara can't heal this. This is too much. It's better that she's not here, so that she can't try, so that she can't fail.

He can feel the end coming. He is going to die, soon, too soon. He is terrified, but he keeps his jaw clamped tight.

He closes his eyes and forces himself to lay still, to drift, to let go.

He dies alone, dreaming of the South Pole, dreaming of Katara and Aang and his mother.


End file.
